Five Miles to Paradise

10

Heck felt his body turn robotically toward the stairs. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed in his ears. His breathing came in uneven gasps, and his heart felt as if it would jump out of his throat. 

The door was ajar; he saw Rayanne lying in their bed with the spread to her chin. But this was not his wife. This was not the Rayanne he loved. She looked so tiny beneath the comforter. Her eyes were closed, and her pale, blue skin looked as if it had been stretched over a death's skull.

Heck had seen Death, but this was the first time the Grim Reaper had come for someone he loved with all his heart and soul.

The thing that made Heck cringe and shrink back into the dark hall was the slack jaw jutting to one side. Rayanne was screaming a silent scream from her twisted face. Heck could not make his feet take him to the bedside. He stood in the door way of the shadowed hall, crying like a baby.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he managed to whisper. "I will always love you, Rayanne. Always."

Fifteen minutes later, he made his way downstairs. Sibbie was busy brewing a fresh pot of strong coffee.

"I know you're not studying on such things, Heck, but later on, there's roast beef and cold chicken in the fridge. I've fixed you a few vegetables, too. Warm them in the oven. You've got enough to tide you over for a couple of days. I woulda' baked you a cake or fixed you a pie, but there was no time."

"Sibbie, how can I thank you?"

"Your thanks ain't necessary, Heck. I did it all for that sweet girl upstairs. She was a good friend. I loved her like she was my own."

"I know you did," Heck said softly.

"Now Heck, these next days you gotta face are gonna be mighty rough.

I want you to know that she died about six hours ago . . .  No, don't fret yourself. How could you have known? And don't feel guilty. I don't judge another person's way of handling grief.

You're a good man, Heck. A decent one. You were good to Rayanne. You loved her. I know that. 

It's often hardest when there's nothing we can do. You're a man, and men want to fix problems. Well, some things are beyond us. It makes us feel so impotent. Helpless feelings are hard to cope with, no matter who you are.

Anyway, Heck, I want you to know that Rayanne's not been part of our world for a good long time, now. There was nothing you, or any of us, could do about that. I kept her clean and as comfortable as possible. Rayanne was in God's hands. She still is."

He sat at the kitchen trying to put into words all that Rayanne had meant to me. But it was too late. Rayanne was beyond caring what he thought anymore. Sibbie was right. Heck put his head in his arms and sobbed.

Sibbie touched Heck's shoulder.

"I'll call Felix to come for her, Heck, if you're through saying goodbye."

"Yes," Heck managed to say between sobs. "Go ahead."

Although Heck wore the badge, he knew that Rayanne had been the pillar of strength in their house. He had a sinking sickness in the pit of his stomach. He could see, even then, what life was going to be like without her.

"There's coffee on the stove and a stiff shot of scotch in the cabinet, if you prefer. I'll call Felix, now. I'll tell him he can come on over and pick up Rayanne. If you change your mind and want to spend some more time with her, just let me know. I'll have Felix cool his scrawny heels in the kitchen.

If not, Felix will go ahead and take her body to the funeral home, and you can go over tomorrow and sign the papers. Rayanne has everything arranged, Heck. I'll send the clothes she wants to be buried in with Felix. Remember, you'll only have to sign some papers."

The burial was a blur in Heck's memory. To this day, he could not tell you who attended the memorial service, though in the days that followed, many said they were there.

He felt like a sleep walker going through the motions. He shook hands, accepted the usual condolences, and buried his wife. After the service, Rayanne's church held a covered-dish dinner in her honor, but he chose not to attend. He stayed by her grave until the last shovelful of dirt covered her.

When the sun set and it was too dark to see her grave, Heck drove straight home to an empty house, a dead house, took off the black suit and white dress shirt and black tie, and put on his uniform. 

He got in his old sedan and hit the roads. If nothing else, driving around the county occupied his mind and gave his hands something to do. Otherwise, he knew he would have started screaming, not silently like Rayanne had, but like a maniac, and he knew he would have pulled every hair out of his head while he was at it.

* * * 

Heck's search turned up nothing of consequence. In his business, there were few tools to pull out of the toolbox when it came to solving crimes. He had his physical five senses and his common sense. He had a car, a telephone, his gun, and a two-way radio that connected to the office – sometimes.

All this, and not much else.

If there were no witnesses or no obvious clues, Heck was left up the proverbial creek without a paddle, and he hated to admit it, but nothing rang any bells or blew any whistles this time. Heck felt a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. He'd have to go round up Palmer and Mervyn. After that, who knew what would happen?

Heck got in his car and headed south.